


Because John Is Different

by TheLonelyPoet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Feelings, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffery Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Insecurity, Johnlock - Freeform, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Minor Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mr & Mrs Watson, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, School, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Shower Sex, Smut, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:10:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLonelyPoet/pseuds/TheLonelyPoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock comes to the conclusion that he wants John to be more than a friend. But does John agree? A fluffy story about firsts and the bliss of being a teenager...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confusion And Conclusion

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,  
> This is my first Teenlock story and for some reasons it is quite important to me.  
> I hope it is not too confusing, but I tried to change between both point of views all the time to show their immediate reaction.  
> I am not sure if I should make this a more-than-one-chapter story...  
> Please tell me what you think.

In Sherlock’s eyes school had nothing to give. The fellow students were inexpressibly boring and the chairs were uncomfortable. Besides he already knew everything these unmotivated adults –whom other people refered to as teachers– tried to explain to him in the poor way they could. _Dull!_ But Sherlock used the time to think about more important things. This time he wondered what had happened to him. Why was he feeling so…funny? Why was he feeling at all? What was happening? What had changed?

It had all started when his one and only friend John Watson had turned up at the Holmes manor the previous day. John had been very upset because there had been a big fight at home. Of course Sherlock had known why, he could deduce it easily, but it wasn’t important. But what was indeed important was what he had felt when he had seen his friend crying and when they had sat on his bed together. The very moment when John had lain his head in the crook of his neck like it was the most natural thing and he had hugged him back tightly. In sixteen years of his life, Sherlock had never felt like that. He didn’t like people. They were dull. But not John, no. John was different. When they had hugged Sherlock hadn't wanted to let go. Ever. It had felt so incredibly good, the sensation of a warm, solid body against his. Sherlock had hugged no one before, except for his mother, and he had never really wanted to. Feelings were unnecessary and distracting. When he finally had to let go of John that cloudy afternoon he had felt like some part of him was missing. And he still felt like this. This was unacceptable. He had to do something.

He ripped out a piece of paper from his textbook, wrote a note, folded it, and put a name on top. _John_.

“Pass it on,” he growled at his stupid neighbour handing it to her. He watched how the piece of paper wandered to the blonde boy on the other side of the classroom, who seemed to listen to the teacher.

 

John’s daydream died when the girl sitting next to him slipped a folded piece of paper in his hand.

“From the freak,” she whispered before she looked at the board again.

He unfolded it and read.

_Let’s get out of here…please! Follow me in a minute. SH_

John was surprised to hear Sherlock say please, that happened more than rarely. Maybe there was something urgent his best friend needed to discuss. He saw how Sherlock stood up and left the room while the teacher talked about some attack in World War One. Normally John found history interesting, especially when it was about war, but today he just couldn’t concentrate and now his thoughts were with Sherlock anyway. A few moments later he stood up and walked out silently.

When he closed the classroom door behind him, he immediately felt Sherlock’s grip around his wrists and before he could say a word, the taller boy shoved him against the wall on the other side of the corridor.

“Jesus, Sherlock what is going on?” John gasped. He was used to Sherlock’s stare, but today it was even more intense than usual. The fact that his best friend pinned him against a wall didn’t make it easier and John couldn’t help but notice that it was suddenly rather hot in the school building.

“Do you feel better, John? And yes, don’t ask stupid questions, I am referring to your emotional condition in comparison to yesterday!”

“Uhm yes, I feel better. But why do you ask? I mean...we left the lesson for this, and you normally just don’t care about other people’s feelings.”

“But I care for yours,” Sherlock said quietly and almost childlike, “Did it make you feel better that-” He stopped talking and to Johns surprise he seemed to sort out what to say best. That never happened, Sherlock usually said what he wanted and he didn’t care if it came out wrong. What was the matter?

“-that you were with me?”

John wondered if Sherlock’s question meant what he thought it meant, and a warm feeling spread through his belly. But this was Sherlock. God knows what was happening in that brilliant brain of his.

“Erm, I am not sure what got into you, but yes it was nice to have someone to talk to if you mean that. You helped me. Sherlock, honestly, what is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Sherlock answered and chewed on his lower lip, lost in thoughts for a few seconds. Then he realized that he still held the blonde boys wrists. He had to find out. There was no other way. He needed data.

He kept looking into his best friends eyes. Slowly, very slowly he let go of his wrists and moved his hands up John’s arms, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his face.

John felt like he was paralyzed. He blushed when his friend started stroking his arms and when his hands were on his face he simply couldn’t think anymore. So he had been right. This was what Sherlock wanted to know. John had no idea what to do. It was more than a bit not good how excited he got because of Sherlock’s touch. Or it was very good, he couldn't tell right now.

Sherlock observed the physical reaction he caused. Flushed face. Slightly dilated pupils. Good. Sherlock was very aware of how much he wanted this and how much he could lose if John did not. But he had to risk it. He stepped even closer to John. Now their bodies were pressed together, and the older boy let out a quiet gasp. Sherlock leaned in and touched John's lips carefully with his. So much data. The slight movement of lips, then John’s hands against Sherlock’s back and Sherlock’s hands on John’s neck.

Oh God. He was kissing Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. Genius. Best friend. Excellent kisser. This could not be a mistake, it was simply too amazing. John knew it was right. Maybe he had known for a long time that he wanted this. They had wasted so much time. But that didn’t matter now, what mattered was what happened next. In one quick movement John grabbed Sherlock by his shoulders and spun him around. Now Sherlock was up against the wall and let out a tiny moan. John took the chance and kissed Sherlock again, more demanding this time. He licked across Sherlock’s exquisite cupids bow. He asked. And Sherlock said yes.

Sherlock felt like his brain shut down when he felt John’s tongue against his. John’s solid body was pressed against his and he felt warmth rushing through every cell of his body. The tingling in his gut became stronger and stronger.

He knew they had not much time left, the lesson would end soon and the corridor would be filled with all those stupid people. But he didn’t want to let go. Again. He wanted to continue this kiss. Maybe forever.

John had never felt so overwhelmed and he wasn’t happy to end this, especially because Sherlock just had entered his mouth with his tongue, but there was no air left in his lungs, so he pulled away. He had never seen Sherlock so vulnerable.

“John,I…I didn’t-”

“If you say ‘I didn’t wanted that’ now, I will kick you, you prick,” John cut in and grinned widely. Without waiting for Sherlock’s response, he gave him another kiss. It was short and more gentle this time. He felt Sherlock’s smile against his lips.

“So Mr My-IQ-is-higher-than-the-Mount-Everest, I hope you already have a plan to talk our way out of leaving the classroom for almost ten minutes together and returning all hot and bothered!”

 

 


	2. Sorting Things Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is a smart little shit and tricks them out of school. Time to sort things out, guys!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hurried up a bit, so here is chapter two.  
> I hope you enjoy it. I had fun writing this, and I would be delighted to hear your opinion.  
> If you notice any mistakes, please let me know ;)  
> xxx

“You are not feeling well?” the teacher asked and Sherlock nodded.

“I think my blood pressure is too low. I wanted to go the restroom to splash some cold water in my face, but then I suddenly felt even dizzier, and I sat down on the corridor floor where John found me,” Sherlock explained.

John stood silently by his side, and tried hard to suppress a wide grin, because Sherlock had a plan, a good one.

“I see. Maybe it would be best if you went home for today. I don’t want you to faint,” said his teacher after a few moments. He looked a bit concerned. He probably knew that it would be a more than unpleasant conversation with Sherlock’s father, if something happened to his son under his responsibility.

“Yes Sir, that might be better, but there is no one at home who can come for me. My parents are on a business trip. Is it possible that John walks me home?” Sherlock asked and John wondered how he managed to look so innocent.

“Um, yes sure. I will let your teacher know that you will miss the next lesson, John.”

“Thank you, Sir” said John.

 

“You,” said John and pointed at Sherlock as they had left the building and walked down the street into town, “You are brilliant!”

Sherlock thought he might just explode. He hadn’t been this happy in years.Had he ever been this happy? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he needed John’s hand in his right now, so he brushed his hand carefully against the smaller boy’s.

John didn’t have a clue what had happened. Until this day he had never really thought about Sherlock in this way. Well okay he had, but he hadn’t been serious because he never could have imagined that something would happen between them. He had banished all this thoughts. And now this small gesture of brushing hands sent goose bumps up his arms and legs and brought them all back. This was madness. John grinned and grabbed Sherlock’s hand, entwining their fingers. Yes, it was madness. But it had always been.

“Sherlock?” John asked after a few more minutes of silent walking “Where are we going now?”

“I thought we could go to my place. I didn't lie when I said that no one’s home, and I thought we use the private time to…talk.”

“Okay, great,” John said, but he felt angst creeping up on him. What if Sherlock said something like _John, feelings are distracting me from more important things. We cannot do this. We should remain friends._ But still he couldn’t stop grinning, maybe because deep in his heart he knew that he would not say anything like that.

About ten minutes later they arrived at the Holmes manor, and when Sherlock had opened the door and hung up his coat, he stood in the entrance hall looking a little bit lost. He turned around to see his best friend standing behind him, looking just as insecure as he felt. His eyes roamed over John. Over his well-proportioned body, the muscles he hid under his favourite striped jumper, his friendly face, his light blue eyes that reminded Sherlock of a cold winter day, his short dark blonde hair.

John always got uncomfortable when Sherlock stared at him, but today it was all different. He didn’t deduce him, he admired. When he realized that by the expression on the geniuses face, John couldn’t stop himself any longer.

He stepped to Sherlock, so very close and then one hand was on his neck, the other one on his cheek, softly caressing the soft pale skin with his thumbs. He felt how Sherlock shivered before he laid his head on John’s shoulder. The smaller boy couldn’t resist and placed a feather light kiss on Sherlock’s exposed neck, tightening the embrace.

Sherlock breathed in deeply. This was all too good. He needed that not only now, but tomorrow and the day after, preferably forever. But he felt his blood rushing south and as much as he wanted to continue this he and John needed to sort things out. They would have time to do more of this later. Much more. At least he hoped so.

“Didn’t we agree on talking?” He finally managed to say and grinned.

John chuckled and let go of his now a-little-bit-more-than-a-best-friend’s lanky body.

“Let’s go to my room, then,” Sherlock said dragging him up the marble staircase.

 

John cleared his throat when they made their way into Sherlock’s room and had sat down in the middle of the huge bed as so many times before.

“So,do you want this? I mean…you and me?” he said, looking on the floor. It was kind of embarrassing.

“John, look at me, please,” Sherlock replied and John managed to look in this eyes of a thousand colours “We’ve been friends for a long time, John. Can’t you deduce?”

“No, Sherlock, because I’m not you, and I won’t make a fool of myself,” answered John quietly. “I want to hear it,” he added, almost whispering.

“Yes John, I want this.”

“Are you sure? We could mess up a lot, you know?!”

Sherlock hesitated a moment. Maybe this was his only chance to convince John, to make John his. He wanted him to know everything and he wanted him to understand. How he felt. How important he was to him. How he needed him by his side.

“I think about you all the time and it got much worse since you hugged me. I cannot concentrate on anything anymore. I poured orange juice in my cereal bowl this morning because I wondered if I would ever feel so warm again, so protected. I almost forgot to put my shoes on before I left the house; for god’s sake I have an IQ score of 172. When I kissed you earlier and you kissed me back, my knees went all weak and I was glad you held me in place. I want to be with you all the time. I miss you when you’re not there, even if you left just a few minutes ago. I never wanted to kiss anyone. I never felt like this. I never wanted to be with anyone… before now.  So what I want to say is,” Sherlock breathed out audibly, “Yes John, I want this. Badly!”

 

 


	3. Time Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So that this is sorted out, we can get to the fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everytime I say it will need some time to continue this story, a new chapter appears...I am mad ;)  
> So here it is, I hope you enjoy the fluff. Let me know.  
> xxx

John sat there completely dumbstruck, trying to process the information. Then he noticed that Sherlock was watching him with fear in his eyes. John could see that he was afraid of rejection.

“Good,” John whispered before he captured Sherlock’s lips with his. The kiss was slow and sweet and all he could think of was Sherlock. His scent, his arms around him, his mouth, everything.

“So it is settled then?” Sherlock asked in an almost shy way, but before he could worry about anything John’s lips were on his again and they fell back on the bed together.

“You are an idiot,” he said in a pause between two kisses, “Of course it is.”

They were intertwined and hands wandered to almost every part of the other’s body. Kisses were curious first, exploring. They grew more heated after some time, but silently they both decided not to rush anything. So they just lay there, looked at each other and exchanged soft, lazy kisses and just enjoyed the company.

John had kissed other people, other girls, but no one has ever had such an effect on him. But who was he kidding?  This was Sherlock and with Sherlock everything was different. In a good way. He held him closer and the bare thought of seeing him kissing someone else made John feel sick.

Sherlock wondered how they could manage to stay in this bed forever. His mind palace needed to be expanded. Of course there was a room for John, but that wouldn't suffice any longer, there had to be a John-Wing. How John smells when he is happy, happy because of Sherlock. How John tastes. How John looks after kissing. These memories needed to be safe.

“Sherlock?” John whispered while he played with the dark curls and sent small shivers down the lager boy’s spine, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Sherlock whispered back, “John?”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“You are beautiful.”

John chuckled, “No, I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

“Stop being childish, John.”

They lay on their sides facing each other, but then Sherlock rolled them over so that he was on top.

“You,” kiss on the cheek, “are,” kiss on the exposed neck, “so,” kiss on the collarbone, “very,” kiss over his heart, “beautiful,” gentle kiss on the lower lip.

John tried to control his breathing, but he failed. “Sherl-," he started, but Sherlock had other plans.

“Shh, John,” he pressed his pale index finger on the smaller boy’s lips before he nuzzled his neck.

“Oh…Oh god, okay. S- Sherlock wait,” John said and sat up.

He was immediately sorry when he saw Sherlock’s face. He looked a little hurt and disappointed.

“I thought you wanted this,” John heard him say quietly.

“I do! God, I do. But I think it would be best if we do not rush things, you know, but if you continued this I definitely would because I am getting very…excited.”

“Oh,” Sherlock answered slightly baffled his lips forming a perfect ‘o’, “I see.” He was not so aware of the effect he obviously had on John. The thought made him smile.

They kept cuddling in silence for a while until John said, “I really don’t want to go, but it got really late…”

Sherlock looked out of the window and into darkness. John was right. How had the time passed that quickly?

“I’m sure my mum is already worried…”

Sherlock knew that John’s arguments were reasonable, but he also knew he didn’t want him to go.

“Stay,” he said quickly and added, “please! Nobody is here and no one will be back before tomorrow evening. You should call your mum and ask if you can stay over tonight…please?!?”

John grinned widely, “So…you want to have me here, eh?”

“Yes.”

“Would you miss me?”

Sherlock hesitated a moment. “Yes.”

“I’ll be right back!”

Five minutes later John returned and Sherlock had already changed into his silky pajamas and lay under the duvet, waiting for him.

“Do you want a pajama?”

“No, I’ll just sleep in my boxers, I mostly do.”

Sherlock made a small indescribable noise when John started to undress. He started with the jumper and then his undershirt came off. Sherlock couldn’t take his eyes of his naked torso, the muscular chest, the blonde hair that trailed down from the navel.

Then John took of his socks and slowly opened his belt. Sherlock continued the intense staring.

“Enjoying yourself?” John asked with a smug grin on his face and got rid of his trousers.

Sherlock blushed a little but kept staring; the dark red pants John wore were too disturbing to stop. “Maybe,” he answered and grinned as well, “Now come here before I come and get you.”

“Okay,” John replied and slipped under the cover next to Sherlock, so that he was the little spoon.

A few moments later he said, “Can I ask you a favour?”

“Of course.”

“Can you take off our shirt?”

“Uhm…yes. Why?”

“You will see,” John said and Sherlock could almost see him wink.

He tossed his shirt to the bedroom floor and hugged John again.

“Hmm much better, isn’t it?!” said John and pressed his back against Sherlock’s now bare chest.

The taller boy gasped at the skin contact, “Yes!” John was so warm against him.

“This is nice,” he added sleepily kissing the back of John’s head.

“Indeed," John replied before he drifted off to sleep.


	4. So Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up next to each other as boyfriends changes the plan of not rushing things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me so long to update this,  
> I hope you enjoy the new chapter.  
> Reactions in any form are more than welcome!  
> xxx

The first thing Sherlock realized when he woke up was the face of John Watson, just a few centimetres away from his own. He was still fast asleep and Sherlock couldn’t take his eyes of him. He looked so peaceful and happy as if nothing worried him and nothing could hurt him. His blonde hair was ruffled and Sherlock thought he looked absolutely stunning. Sherlock himself had slept better and longer than ever. To feel someone’s breathing, someone’s heartbeat was incredibly soothing. 

He remembered that he woke up in the middle of the night, John’s back still pressed against his chest and their legs entwined. He had pressed a light kiss on John’s neck before he laid his head there and inhaled John’s scent, before he fell asleep again. Now he had more things to catalogue in his mind palace. How John smelled when he was asleep. How John felt against him at night under the duvet and now how John looked when he was asleep. Sherlock could watch him for hours and he did not dare to move because he would not wake him up. It was 7:23 on a Saturday so John could sleep as long as he wanted. Sherlock was happy just to lie there and watch him closely. It was unbelievable how sexy he was even when he slept and Sherlock remembered how he had dreamed of him, touching and kissing and all that.

He wondered if he would wake up with an erection more often now. He wasn’t quite sure what to do because he could definitely not touch himself while John was asleep in the same bed, but he had no intention to get up and go to the bathroom either, so he decided to just ignore it for the moment.

Ten minutes later nothing had changed. John was still asleep and Sherlock was still aroused by watching him sleeping in his bed, thinking about what they had done the day before and what they hopefully would do in the future. He had never had sex before. He never wanted to and even if he had no one to sleep with, but since yesterday he was more than willing to try. He was with John now. He had no reason to be afraid. John cared for him. He could trust him. He wasn’t sure if John had slept with someone yet, but the thought of John sharing the bed with someone else made him feel sick.

Suddenly John rolled over -still asleep- so that he was now completely pressed against Sherlock. The younger boy felt his erection grow even harder against John’s butt and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning.

John awoke and opened his eyes sleepily as he heard this incredibly hot noise from his new boyfriend. He felt his hard-on against his backside and grinned.

“Having fun there?” he asked cheekily before he turned around to face an embarrassed Sherlock. With his curls all messy and flushed cheeks he looked absolutely sexy. John promised himself to wake up beside him as often as possible.

“Ah, John…um,” Sherlock stuttered. Ridiculous, a Holmes did not stutter.

John chuckled happily, “It’s okay, Sherlock. It’s a completely normal reaction.” He slid his left arm around Sherlock’s waist and kissed him, “Hi.”

“Good morning,” Sherlock said still uncomfortable.                                          

“You are still embarrassed, huh?” John said, smiling warmly. He was pretty sure that all this was new to his boyfriend.

Sherlock nodded before he murmured, “I watched you sleeping.”

John’s eyes went wide, “How long have you been awake?”

“24 minutes and …35 seconds.”

“Aw, how sweet of you to let me sleep,” John said and kissed Sherlock again and with a wicked grin he added, “I want to show you something!”

He drew back and crawled on top of the pale boy letting him feel how much he liked waking up next to him by pressing his erection against Sherlock’s.

“See Sherlock? You do the same to me.”

When John’s crotch met his, Sherlock whimpered and bucked his hips instinctively.

“Jesus,” John sucked in his breath. The lets-not-rush-into-anything-stuff was overpowered by hormones and feelings.

“Ooh,” Sherlock was perfectly sure that he would burst as John continued to rub against him “John,have you…have you done this before?”

John had to catch his breath before he could answer, “No I -oh god- I haven’t. I have n-never been with a guy before.”

Sherlock processed this information, slower than usual because he was more than a little distracted, but he did. That meant it was also new for John. They could experience this together and this thought made it even hotter. He needed more. It was perfect but he needed more and everything. He sat up so that John sat on his lap and started to snog him passionately, while John wriggled his hips.

“John, I can’t last if you go on like this,” Sherlock gasped in the other boy’s mouth.

“Good,” John replied and began kissing his neck wetly, “I don’t want you to.”

Sherlock’s hands were at John’s hips and he made John move faster.

John felt the tension growing in his belly as he felt how desperately Sherlock seemed to need more and more.

“Oh fuck, Jooohn,” Sherlock came harder than he ever did as John picked up the pace and sucked a bruise at his neck.

Seeing Sherlock orgasm was the most gorgeous thing John had ever seen. How he threw his head back, how he was shaking and how his name was moaned at the moment he climaxed.

Seeing this John followed Sherlock quickly over the edge. With a strangled cry he came as Sherlock stroked over the huge bulge in his pants.

Sherlock caught every detail of John’s face and body reaction and stored it all safe in the John wing of his mind palace.

 

They lay there, catching their breaths, John still half on top of Sherlock and surrounded by the lanky boy’s arms.

“Thank you,” Sherlock whispered quietly into John’s hair.

John just kissed Sherlock slow, soft and sweet.

“No, thank you.”

Sherlock had no idea how exhausting these activities were, but he felt like all his bones had turned into jelly.

They just kept cuddling and caressing each other’s exposed skin.

“Do you want to get up and have breakfast?” Sherlock asked after a while.

“Not for all the money in the world.”


	5. Are You Coming?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fun in the shower...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally meant it when I wrote I want to build this very slowly...but I failed and now I am producing an unhealthy amount of smut. I hope you don't mind ;D  
> Please let me know what you think.  
> xxx

Half an hour later John gently pushed the other boy away and sat up, realizing he had dried semen in his pants.

"We need to shower!"

The pure thought of John's naked body covered in soap made Sherlock's cock twitch in his sticky pants. John turned everything upside down. He hadn't been aroused many times in his life, maybe three or four times. It was difficult to stimulate the body and the mind, but now with John around Sherlock was in an almost constant state of arousal.

"Fine, let's go," he mumbled when he swung his legs out of bed and got up.

John felt his body reacting to the messy look of his boyfriend and to the image of him completely wet and naked. He followed him quickly, entering his private bathroom through a door in Sherlock's room. There was a huge bathtub in the back right corner and the shower on the left was also massive. The tiles were black streaked with small white lines and everything looked more expensive than the whole Watson flat. Very Holmesian. John's thoughts were interrupted when a very bare Sherlock took his hand.

"Are you coming?"

John could not remember to have gotten out of his pants that quickly in his entire life. He stepped into the warm spray of the shower with the pale, perfect figure he was so proud to be with. He looked like one of those Greek figures.

John. Naked. Broad shoulders. Muscular arms. Pink nipples, hardened from the temperature. Few blonde hair on his chest. Sixpack. Trail of hair from his belly button down to his penis. Average length but quite thick. Half erect. Heat rushed through Sherlock's body as he looked that closely and he felt himself growing harder.

John saw that Sherlock was observing -he was used to it- so he just stood there and waited patiently. Eventually he turned around and bend down to fetch the shower gel from the tub, only mildly aware of the fact that he presented his arse to Sherlock. When he got up again and opened the cap of the bottle, he felt Sherlock stepping closer - oh so very close - his erection pressing against his butt. He shivered as Sherlock whispered into his ear.

"Give me the bottle, John."

John swallowed and turned around to hand it to him. It had left his hand, and suddenly he was spun around again. Soft, soapy fingers massaged his shoulders, wandered to his chest, and caressed his nipples. He moaned loudly and Sherlock continued his journey south. Simultaneously he moved even more forward so that his chest was pressed against John's back and his hard-on glided up and down between his butt cheeks.

John froze and, of course, Sherlock noticed immediately and took a step back.

"I am sorry, John. It just felt so...good. You feel so good against me," he whispered.

John groaned at his words and threw his arms back to grab Sherlock's arse, to haul him towards him, and to feel him against his back again.

This time Sherlock moaned shamelessly before he resumed to touch John's body. He turned the water off and poured more shower gel in his hand before he wrapped it around John's cock.

"Oh shit," John hissed and threw his head back so it rested against Sherlock's shoulder. The sensation of being surrounded by him, to thrust into the moist heat of his hand and to feel his hardness moving against his arse, was incredibly intense.

"John," Sherlock panted, he was already close, "You have no idea what you do to me, do you? I don't know how to get through the day when I get an erection every time I see you and that's...oh."

John had slapped away his hand on his prick and was now facing him, shutting him up by kissing him furiously, pushing him backwards until his back met the wall.

It was a silent battle for dominance with lips, tounges and teeth, but John won it and Sherlock accepted that happily, especially when John took both of their cocks in hand while they still kissed as if their lifes depended on it. He gave them a slow, teasing stroke and Sherlock's eyes flashed open. He gasped into John's velvet mouth, needing air, needing more, needing John.

He shivered and lay his hand on John's, helping him to get them off with faster strokes.

"Fuck," John almost shouted as he felt those long fingers on his hand and his prick and the sweet friction intensified, "Fuck yes, oh god, Sherlock...I- I can't hold back any longer, I...aaaah." Orgasm hit John and he collapsed and sunk down on the shower tray. Then he realized that Sherlock hadn't come yet, and that his cock was at the level of his head. Looking up he saw Sherlock's face. Closed eyes. Open mouth. Somehow concentrated expression.

Without really thinking about it, he gave the long, well shaped penis an experimental lick from root to tip.

"Oh god," Sherlock cried out before he completely lost control and came over John's hand that was held there to prevent him from ejaculating all over John's face.

John turned on the water again after he stood up and gave Sherlock a chaste kiss.

"I guess we need another shower..."

 

 


	6. An Unpleasant Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nah, I'm sorry it took me so long. But I needed some time to figure out what I wanted to happen.  
> Do you like the new chapter? Please let me know.  
> xxx

After finally getting clean and drying each other with white flannel towels –very slowly and very carefully- John and Sherlock got out of the bathroom. Sherlock was still completely naked and John, who followed him, was only covered by the few pieces of clothes he picked up from the dampish bathroom floor which hadn’t been a problem at all…

…if Mycroft and his three piece suit hadn’t decided to wait for them in Sherlock’s room. Both boys froze, and John’s face coloured crimson while he made sure certain body parts were _really_ covered. Sherlock just glared at his older brother.

“Mycroft, get out of my room!” he hissed.

“I had no idea that you had company brother dear,” he answered, an untypical smirk on his face, “I merely wanted to let you know that I returned from my business trip just now,” Mycroft replied smugly.

“OUT!NOW!” Sherlock yelled and threw an empty petri dish he grabbed from a near dresser at the auburn-haired young man.

The older Holmes ducked elegantly -John wondered how this was even possible- before he left the room he said, “Very well. Have a pleasant day, John. I can see you already had a pleasant morning.”

As the door closed behind the politician, John groaned and fell face first on Sherlock’s bed.

“Could it have been more embarrassing?” he asked, voice muffled by the down-filled pillow.

“My parents could have walked in…” Sherlock suggested. He hated Mycroft for embarrassing John, for interrupting their morning and for ruining the mood. John was insecure. He would worry now and he had to stop him.

“Not helping, Sherlock,” John said, but Sherlock saw the vibration of his quiet laughter.

Yes, it was helping. He wasn’t so bad at feelings and deducing what would be appropriate to say. People just said and thought that because he rarely tried. Usually the person wasn’t important enough. _Usually_.

“I hate Mycroft,” Sherlock mumbled before he joined John on the bed and kissed the hair back of his head. Soothing gesture, good.

“Do you mind?” John asked and turned his head slightly to the left, unwittingly giving Sherlock access to kiss his neck.

“That he knows?” Sherlock asked back after the kiss and John nodded in response.

“No, I don’t mind. He would have deduced it from my behaviour anyway. He probably knew before I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I have feelings for you,” Sherlock whispered in his ear, sending goose bumps over John’s arms and legs.

John could almost feel the thoughts spinning in his head. Sherlock just said he had feelings. He admitted to have feelings. Feelings for him. His grin was so wide he was sure he looked like a complete idiot and he realized gladly Sherlock couldn’t see it. He probably deduced it anyway.

“He always liked you, tho. If you worry about him being against…” Sherlock tried to find the right words, "…this,” he gestured between the two of them, “It is unnecessary. Besides I have never listened to Mycroft, so why should I start now?” Sherlock continued.

The tingling in John’s belly became almost unbearable. Sherlock had just said that he wasn’t afraid of Mycroft’s opinion, that he didn’t care. He really wanted John. John wondered if this was the famous cloud nine. Yes it was, he decided. Life could hardly be better.

Then his gaze coincidentally fell on his slightly battered wristwatch. “Shit. I know this is really bad timing, but… I should be going. I told mum I would be home for lunch and she expects me to help her and…”

“I know.”

“Of course you do,” John chuckled and turned around to capture his new boyfriend’s lips in a slow kiss. Oh how he wanted this to last.

“And Sherlock?” he breathed out.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for telling me.”

Sherlock smirked. “If your deduction skills were better, there would have been no need,” he answered and John could feel he was teasing him because he didn’t want to discuss this further right now.

 

John got dressed while Sherlock lay on this bed and watched him, watched the layers of clothes that hid away the muscles and the soft skin. He knew John had to go, but he didn’t want him to leave. It was silly, really, because they could meet tomorrow, but Sherlock also knew he wouldn’t think about a new experiment, or homework, or how to insult Mycroft in more creative ways. All he would think of was the blonde jumper-wearing wonder that put up with him and whom he would thank god for every single day if he believed in one.

“Where is my bag?”

“You left it downstairs with your coat and your shoes. That’s why Mycroft knew you were here. I think he knew what awaited him when he came to my room.”

John pulled a face, “Ew, that’s gross. Why did you even tell me…ugh I don’t want to think about it.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Why would he want to see…that, I mean…just no…”

 

John shook his head as if he could let go of the idea that way, and Sherlock smiled at the gesture and filed it in the John wing of his mind palace.

He got up and quickly put fresh boxer shorts and an old t-shirt on as John was fully dressed and walked slowly towards his bedroom door.

“Anything left to say in private before I leave? I mean… Mycroft could be outside of this door…so…” John started. Exactly seven and a half seconds later Sherlock had him pinned against the wooden exit and kissed him so passionately, John was glad that he had the door to lean onto. Sherlock’s mouth on his never failed to make his knees weak. It was the best feeling. After some more minutes of dancing tongues and gentle nibbles, Sherlock drew back, panting.

“Go.”

“W-what?” John uttered, out of breath. They had just stopped snogging and their bodies were pressed together and now he told him to go away? Why?

“Go,” Sherlock repeated and John saw a flicker in his eyes he couldn’t quite assess.

“You are already late, and if you don’t go right now, I will rip your clothes off!”

 


	7. Telling His Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is happy. Everyone can see it. What will happen when his parents find out why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the Long wait, I had some Family issues and I wasn't in the mood, but here is the new chapter and I'll try to update once a week again.  
> Enjoy and let me know what you think.  
> xxx

Sitting in the rattling tube on his way home John thought about how crazy it was that his whole life changed within a day. Suddenly everything seemed better, brighter, nicer. He didn’t care that someone stepped on his foot or that the tube was absolutely packed. All he could think of was the tall, pale boy with the black curls and what he had done, what they had done…what they would do. John wondered if life would always be this way now because he didn’t wanted this to end, but everyday life went on and there was school and duties, but his mind was completely occupied with Sherlock. He almost missed his stop deep in thought as he was. The walk home seemed shorter than normal and the sun was smiling as bright as John himself. _Yes_ , John decided, _this is how life should be_.

He closed the door behind him and took off his shoes.

“Mum, I’m home.”

“It’s about time, young man,” came the response from the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” John replied after entering the kitchen and kissing his mother on the cheek. “What can I do?”

“Well, cut the vegetables for a start and then you can set the table.”

“Alrighty,” John said, grabbed a knife, a board and the carrots and sat down at the kitchen table.

“What did you just say?”

“Uhm…alrighty?”

“What did you do to my son?”

“Ha-ha mum, you’re so funny.”

“I know.”

“Where is dad?”

“Here he is,” said Mr Watson who stuck his head in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

“Yep,” answered John constantly smiling at everyone and everything.

“It makes you way too happy to cut these carrots,” Mr Watson grinned at his son’s behaviour, “Looks like someone had a good time yesterday.”

John was getting slightly uncomfortable because it was really too early to tell his parents and he really didn’t want to have this conversation about his sexuality, but at the same time he was pretty confident that his parents would be fine. They obviously saw that he was happy. And Mycroft knew. So what.

“Nice day indeed.” _Nice night and nice morning, too_ he added in his mind, but that was really not their business.

“You are acting highly suspicious, my friend,” his father said as he sat down opposite of John watching him curiously.

“Do I?” John played along and stood up to hand his mother the carrots and to grab some tomatoes that needed to be cut.

“Smiling all the time, not a word of protest on helping your mother in the kitchen, whistling…”

“I did not whistle,” John protested.

“Yes you did,” his parents replied in chorus.

“Did I?” He hadn’t noticed.

 

“Where were you last night?” his father asked him with a grin on his face.

"He was at Sherlock’s," his mother answered for him.

“Were you? Or were you at Sherlock’s?” Mr Watson made a quotation marks gesture as he said ‘Sherlock’s’.

John gave a laugh, “I was with Sherlock, dad!”

“If you say so,” his father said and seemed to be lost in thought a few moments. Then he shot up from his chair. John flinched at the sudden movement.

“Oh, now I get it,” Mr Watson looked his son in the eyes, “You are with Sherlock now, aren’t you?”

John’s mother stopped stirring the sauce and turned around to look at her son.

“Kind of…” John mumbled and kept fighting with the tomatoes. This was embarrassing, more embarrassing that he had thought. Then he remembered the encounter with Mycroft and decided this was all rainbows and candyfloss against the horror he had experienced earlier. He shifted on his chair, “Do you...erm...do you mind?”

His mum lay her hand on his shoulder before she said, “We want you to be happy, John. And you seem to be happy. As long as it stays that way I don’t care if you are with Sherlock, or Molly, or David Cameron.”

“Woh,” John’s father said, “I think that _is_ pretty gross.”

“David Cameron is ugly anyway," John murmured and his father burst out laughing.

“You two are so grown-up,” his mother said shaking her head but laughing as well. “You get my point, John.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“As long as Sherlock doesn’t poison you or manages to blow up our flat everything’s fine,” his das smirked.

“I’ll tell him…”

“He’ll try anyway, won’t he?”

“Probably,” John said and stared at the completely destroyed tomatoes, smiling like he had just seen something truly beautiful.

“Do you think he will stay that way now?” he heard his dad ask his mother.

“Hey, I’m still in the same room,” John complained back in reality.

“Maybe you should go then,” his father replied with a smirk, “I’m sure you have to make a call. I will knock when it’s time to eat.”

“I have awesome parents,” John said into the room as he stood up, patted his dad’s shoulder, a silent thanks for being awesome, and headed to his room.

 

He sat down on his bed and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

There was one new message.

 

_What did they say? – SH_

 

John shook his head, stunned once more about his –now he could really say it– boyfriend’s skills. Then he quickly texted back.

 

_They said they are fine with it on the premise that you do not poison me. – JW_

 

_Why would I? There are way better things I can do with you. – SH_

 

_Cheeky bastard. – JW_

 

_I’m wounded, John. – SH_

 

_Stop texting me, I have homework to do. – JW_

 

_So do I. – SH_

 

_Then do it. – JW_

 

_I can’t. Cannot concentrate. – SH_

 

_The Great Sherlock Holmes cannot concentrate??- JW_

 

_That’s what you do to me, John. – SH_

 

John felt his heart stumbling a little at these words. He sighed happily before he grabbed his English literature book and started to read.


	8. Let's Go On A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I see you tonight? – SH  
> I would like that very much. –JW  
> I will pick you up at six. – SH  
> Why? Where are we going? – JW  
> Out…on a date. – SH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was definitely more challenging than the last. I hope you like it anyway. Thanks for all the Kundos, Comments and Bookmarks. They never fail to make me smile. Your opinion means a lot to me and if you have suggestions for the new chapters you can always tell me!
> 
> xxx

Sherlock lay on his bed, an open chemistry book beside him. His eyes were closed. He didn’t want to read, he couldn’t read. There were more important things. Well, one thing actually. John. He went to his Mind Palace to go through everything again. The first kiss… his very first kiss, the exertion, the angst to destroy the friendship, the next kiss, the feeling of John on top of him, the feeling of holding him when he slept, skin on skin, waking up next to him, watching him sleep, John’s sleepy smile, the yes-it-was-not-a-dream-this-is-really-happening-feeling, cuddling in a warm bed and _oh my god_ the shower. And the feeling of not wanting him to leave like Sherlock was afraid that when John walked out of the door everything was over. It was not…obviously.

Sherlock opened his eyes and breathed out audibly. John had managed to disturb his whole thinking process. He had tried to continue an old experiment, but there was always something about a certain blonde boy that sneaked into his thoughts, so after an hour he had given up. Would it be this way from now on? Was John the only thing he would think of by now? He groaned. He was happy. Happier than he had ever been, but he had no idea how he should manage to concentrate on other things. School, experiments, cases…

There was a knock on his door.

“Now you feel like you have to knock? That’s rich, Mycroft,” Sherlock cried.

The door opened and his older brother stepped in, looking like he had to control himself really hard not to grin. He held a tray in his hands.

“I have to leave soon, and you have to eat something. Considering the point that you hardly eat at a usual day, I assumed that you would forget about it today.”

“There is no need to mother me. I would rather like to be alone, especially after what happened earlier,” Sherlock replied sharply.

Mycroft placed the tray on Sherlock’s desk before he sat down next to him.

“I had never thought this day would come, Sherlock. I had to see with my own eyes to believe it.”

“God, that sounded so wrong,” Sherlock said burying his face in his hands, obviously disgusted.

Mycroft laughed out, “I am sorry, dear brother. That’s not quite what I meant.”

Sherlock shifted on the bed, “I know. I never thought this would happen either, but…I don’t know what to say, Mycroft. We are not good at this,” he gestured between them.

“You don’t need to say anything, Sherlock. I have to go now anyway,” he paused. “All I wanted you to know is that I am happy for you.”

And with these words he stood up, ruffled his brother’s already messy hair and left a very stunned Sherlock behind. Sometimes he was really glad that Mycroft was there…god what happened to him? All these emotions he suddenly couldn’t and partly didn’t want to ignore anymore were overwhelming and confusing, but kind of good. Sherlock sighed. This would not be easy.

But it would be worth it. He quickly finished his homework, slower than usual and with a few more difficulties, but it had to be done. Then he grabbed his phone.

 

_Can I see you tonight? – SH_

_I would like that very much. –JW_

_I will pick you up at six. – SH_

_Why? Where are we going? – JW_

_Out…on a date. – SH_

_Really? –JW_

_Yes. See you then. – SH_

 

Sherlock looked at the phone. 3 pm. Two and a half hours to think about the evening, the outfit, the activities and how dashing John would look.

He wanted them to be a normal couple, as normal as they could be even if Sherlock knew John loved a bit of danger. It could be exciting, but it was also exhausting and Sherlock definitely needed some sort of normality in his life, so he started planning the “typical” date, restaurant and cinema. He would think about more individual things for the next dates. There would be more. Sherlock smiled at the thought and stepped to his wardrobe. What to wear? It was ridiculous because John had known Sherlock for ages and had seen him in all kinds of clothes, but still this was their first official date and Sherlock wanted to look nice. Nice and sexy but not intimidating or too posh. He pulled out tight black jeans. Sexy, but not too elegant. Perfect. But what about the shirt? Black? No, then he would be dressed in black and he had black hair; he was pale enough. White was too classic, boring. He continued rummaging through his clothes and finally found something. It was an expensive purple shirt that Mycroft had given him some time ago. He never wore it but he remembered that John had once said that he liked it. He tried it on and had to admit that it was a little too tight, but he wasn’t in the mood to look for a better shirt and to change again.

 

John still sat in the kitchen after dinner when his phone vibrated.

He smiled when Sherlock asked to meet him later, but he had not expected him to ask him out. He stared at the display, a little dumbstruck.

His father opposite of him lowered the newspaper he was reading, “John?”

“Uhm…sorry dad, what?”

“Oh, never mind son. But what happened in the parallel universe you’re constantly living in that you are not quite able to close your mouth?” his father replied amused.

“Sherlock wants to go out tonight.”

“And you’re still sitting here?”

“Er…yes?!?”

“Shouldn’t you stand in front of your cupboard having an I-have-nothing-to-wear-crisis and a nervous breakdown?”

John bit back a laugh, “Dad, this is Sherlock were talking about.”

“So you think if Sherlock asks you out, which seems not to be a very sherlocky thing to do he will turn up in his shabbiest clothes and expect you to do the same?”

John thought about it for a moment before he leapt to his feet, “Shit.”

“That’s what I thought,” laughed Mr Watson as his son fled from the room, and he continued to read his paper.

 

 


	9. The Date - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nargh....I'm not too happy with this chapter, so I hope you like it better than I do. I just couldn't write it down like I saw it in my head....anyway...I hope you enjoy it. Please let me now, every response makes me smile!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's heir first official date and it is more exciting than John thinks it should be. All the nervousness...

After a lot of changing, constant dissatisfaction and tearing his hair John opened his door, “Dad!”

If this wasn’t _the_ outfit he was definitely screwed. He stood there in his messy room with pile of crumpled shirts on the floor, jeans on his bed, trousers hastily thrown over his chair. He heard his father stepping in and turned around, “What do you think?”

“Your mum will kill you,” Mr Watson said as he saw the chaos, then he eyed his son thoughtfully.

“Yes, I know,” John replied carelessly and waited impatiently to hear his opinion.

“You look really good.” The plain, cobalt blue t-shirt brought out his eyes, this grey pair of jeans fit perfectly and the black waistcoat made him look all grown up.

“I think you should leave the buttons of your vest open…looks cooler,” Mr Watson said and winked.

For a moment John just stood there, then he punched his father playfully in the chest before he pulled him into a hug, “I love you, dad.”

“Love you, too big boy. Now go and make daddy proud.”

John laughed and groaned, “God… that sounded _so_ wrong!”

Mr Watson let go of his son, “Have fun.”

John grabbed his wallet and keys, shoved them into his pocket and followed his father out of the room. 6:57 pm. Perfect. He put on his as-good-as-new black Converse high tops and checked his reflection in the large mirror that hung in their entrance hall. He mussed up his hair when the doorbell rang. John opened the door and the greeting died on his lips. Sherlock looked absolutely stunning.

 

Sherlock thought that John always looked good. He could wear his oldest jumper and he was still beautiful, but he had never seen him so sexy.

“You are gorgeous,” he said as his eyes wandered up and down the smaller boy’s body.

He smiled as John blushed. It was cute.

“You, too,” John managed to say, still staring at the perfection that Sherlock was.

“So…ready to go?” Sherlock asked standing in the doorframe.

“Uh…yes of course,” he replied and followed Sherlock down the stairs and onto the street, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a small restaurant not far from here. I thought we could walk. It will take us about 13 minutes and 42 seconds.”

John chuckled and they started walking. He was nervous. Why? They were together now, they had slept in the same bed, they had even had sex. Still this was new and somewhat different. Sherlock did this for him. They walked side by side, shoulders brushing against each other from time to time. They barely talked but it wasn’t a bad thing. John could not count the hours he had spent with Sherlock without talking, just being in the same room.

 

Sherlock held the door open for him as they entered the tiny but authentic Spanish restaurant. A chubby woman in her forties with long black hair greeted them…well mostly Sherlock.

“Hola chicos. Dios mío Sherlock! Como estás?”

Sherlock smiled one of his ‘I’m uncomfortable but I know I have to behave’- smiles.

“Soy bien, Maria. Perdón pero my amigo no hablas Espanol. Do you have a table available for us?” Sherlock changed into English to make sure John did not feel left out.

“Of course,” Maria replied and guided them into a corner of the small, cosy seating area. Sherlock pulled at a chair and waited for John to sit down before he sat down opposite.

There was a moment of silence and  John didn’t know what to say when he looked at this eyes.

“So,did you see Mycroft again?”

“Oh god, John, do you really want to talk about my stupid brother?”

“He helped me quite a lot today, you know…”

“WHAT?? HOW?”

John chuckled, “What happened with him this morning was so embarrassing that telling my parents about us felt like nothing.”

Sherlock’s stomach flipped at the sound of _us_ and he laughed, “I’m glad you can see something positive in this…incident. I shall be traumatized forever!” he exclaimed and made John laugh as well. “But you always see the positive thing…I like you for that.” Sherlock could tell John did not know how to react so he continued to talk.

“You have great parents,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, I know. I’m really glad. What do you think will your parents say when they find out?”

“I don’t know,” said Sherlock, staring into empty space.

“They will probably tell me that it is just a phase and then they will be off to find me an adequate wife.”

John exhaled audibly, “Your parents have always been…”

“Crazy? Horrifying? Insane?” Sherlock suggested.

Before they could discuss it any further Maria appeared again, “What can I get you?”

John looked at Sherlock, a little confused, “There was no menu!?”

“I know. I would like to order if that’s okay?”

“Sure, fine.”

Sherlock ordered what sounded like a lot of food, but John had no idea what awaited him because his Spanish skills were limited to _hola, adios_ and _vamos a la playa._

They continued to talk about John’s parents and about the past. How they had met for the first time and what they had thought of each other.

“I had never seen someone look so confident and so lost at the same time,” John remembered. He had been fascinated with Sherlock since the first time he had laid eyes upon him and nothing had ever changed. He was still surprised and stunned every single time he saw him in his element.

“I guess I was lucky that you found me then,” Sherlock replied and mentally slapped himself because _god_ since when was he that soppy? But then he felt John’s hand on his and he stopped thinking about it. They just looked into each other’s eyes and Sherlock wondered if he deserved to be this happy.

 

The food arrived and Sherlock showed John how to shell a fresh grilled prawn and how sepia tasted. They made a complete mess with all the shellfishes and they laughed with smeary hands, full bellies and open hearts.


	10. The Date- Part Two ( Or : New Things )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John realises how much Sherlock means to him, Sherlock is afraid and John's dad is awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. This is still about the date. I want to describe it really slowly because I think it is very important...and I like the Impression that you really live through it. So here it is, the next chapter. Enjoy :)  
> xxx  
> And of course...please tell me what you think!

They listened to a group of Spanish people arguing loudly and laughed when Sherlock revealed that they were really just talking about the birth of one of their children. Eventually Sherlock paid and after visiting the bathroom they stepped into the night.

“Thanks, Sherlock,” said John warmly and Sherlock wondered if he would always have this funny feeling from now on when John said his name.

“I am glad you enjoyed it so far.”

“Immensely, I have never tried so much seafood and the restaurant was lovely. Thanks for showing me new things.”

“That’s only fair,” Sherlock mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“You show me new things all the time.” Sherlock saw the doubting and questioning look on the other boys face, but before he could continue his explanation John said “Honestly, what can I possibly show you? I am just…me and you’re brilliant. You can easily deduce everything on your own.”

Sherlock gave John an odd look. “I’ve never had a friend before I met you. I could never have guessed how great it feels to have someone who cares for you and who isn’t supposed to care because he is your brother. A person who accepts who you are and how you are.” He took John’s hand and made him see the honesty in his words. “You and I, we see the world very differently and every time I am with you I can see your world if you let me. And you often do. You show me many new things every day.”

They had moved, ready to go to the cinema, but had stopped when Sherlock had started to explain himself.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes?!?”

“I know this is a first date, well kind of, and you usually aren’t allowed, but shit,” John pulled him close and kissed him gently, kissed him like he meant it. Because he did, kissed him like there was nothing better in the whole world. Maybe because to John there wasn’t.

Sherlock couldn’t help but think that first-date-rules were utterly unnecessary when his boyfriend kissed him with all he could give, so they stood there on the street in the darkness hugging each other as close as it was possible while they were kissing.

“Do you still want to go see a movie?” Sherlock panted as they broke apart.

“Hmm," John said, "On the one hand I hate to spoil your plans for tonight…but on the other hand it would be an utter waste of money to see a film when all I can concentrate on is how badly I want to kiss you.”

“Just tell me what you want to do,” Sherlock said and slowly unwrapped himself from John’s arms.

“How about we go home and watch a DvD?

“I assume you suggest to go to your place because you cannot possibly mean the manor when you talk about ‘home’. That is –or it should be– my home, not yours. Furthermore I have no DvD’s in my possession, so yes lets go and watch a movie in your living room.”

John listened before he chuckled and replied. “I don’t know how you do this. One minute you talk like everybody else, like I do, and the next minute…”

“I am sorry. I try to adapt to social situations and to normal people, but sometimes I…I can’t stop it.”

“That’s more than fine, Sherlock!” John leaned in again and gave him a chaste kiss. “I don’t want you to change.” He kissed him again. “Not for me.” Another kiss. “Not for anyone.” Kiss on the cheek. “And I _love_ when you talk smart to me,” John chuckled and tiptoed to whisper in the taller boy’s ear. “It’s _hot._ ”

Sherlock shivered as he felt arousal shooting through him.

“Come on, there is a DvD Collection waiting for us…”

 

They made their way back to the Watson-flat, but before John opened the door Sherlock froze.

“What’s the matter?”

“Your parents are in there!”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“They know. You told them…today.”

“For a guy who always says he hates repetition…” John started teasingly but he could see the look on Sherlock’s face and lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. It will be fine. They know you. They like you, okay? No need to panic.”

“Okay. Fine,” Sherlock took a deep breath as John opened the door.

They took off their shoes as Mr Watson walked into them.

“Oh, hey boys. I thought you wanted to visit the cinema.”

“Hi dad.Yeah, change in plans.”

“Hello Mr Watson,” Sherlock said politely. It looked a little like he was hiding behind John.

“So what are you up to now?” Mr Watson asked smiling brightly at Sherlock.

“We thought we could just watch a DvD or something,” John answered.

“So should I vacate the living room?”

“It is not our intention to kick you out of your own room,” Sherlock said quickly.

“Oh that’s no problem, son,” Mr Watson replied.

“You…could watch with us if you want,” John suggested, not so sure if Sherlock agreed, but when he turned around Sherlock gave him a that-would-be-fine-with-me look.

“Ah, I don’t know. What do you want to watch?”

“Uh, dunno. Have you seen Iron Man, Sherlock?”

“No.”

“You haven’t seen Iron Man?” John’s father gaped. “Son, you sure missed something. John, go and get the DvD!” Mr Watson guided Sherlock to the sofa talking enthusiastically about the movie.

Sherlock didn’t know if it had been a good idea to agree on this, but he wanted to leave a good impression and he had always liked John’s parents. They were so different to his. He realized he hadn’t listened to Mr Watson who had sat down in his armchair when John reappeared.

“Dad, stop spoiling!” He put the DvD in before he sat down next to Sherlock on the sofa.


	11. In Your Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All dates end. All rules are broken. Being normal is not an advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry this chapter is shorter that the others, but stress kills my inspiration and I wanted to give you at least something. I'd love to hear from you.  
> xxx

The film went on and John noticed how he slowly got more and more tired. His head drifted to Sherlock’s shoulder as Tony Stark stepped onto the red carpet. Sherlock noticed and normally he wouldn’t mind at all, but he wasn’t sure how to react because of John’s father. He glanced over to Mr Watson who smiled warmly at his son and then wrapped his arms around John’s middle to make both of them more comfortable.

“Boys, it’s late. Old men like me are supposed to be sleeping, so I’ll leave you alone now,” Mr Watson said a few minutes later and left.

“John?” Sherlock asked quietly, testing if the other boy was still awake.

“Hm… ’m sorry Sherlock,” he slurred. “I messed up the ending of our date, but ‘m just so tired,” he murmured against his chest.

“It’s fine,” he replied before he slowly sat up. “Let’s get you into bed.”

He stood up and helped the half sleeping John to get to the bathroom and after the evening hygiene they finally stepped in John’s room.

 

The place was an absolute mess. There were clothes everywhere.

“What happened in here?” Sherlock asked baffled.

“Didn’t know what to wear,” John answered while he threw some shirts from the bed to the floor before he collapsed on it. “Wanted to look good for you.”

Sherlock didn’t know what to say. The sheer thought of John thinking about his outfit for hours, trying on all those clothes, making such an effort just to ‘look good for him’ overwhelmed him.

“You always look good,” Sherlock said quietly as he sat down next to John. “Do you think you can change into pyjamas?”

John whined in response, so Sherlock started to unbutton the shirt and made John shrug it off together with his waistcoat. He placed them neatly over a chair before he carefully opened the button and the zipper of John’s jeans.

“Knew it…you just wanted to get me naked,” John chuckled sleepily.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sherlock said as he continued his work. This was nothing sexual, this was Sherlock caring for John. When he was finished he planned to get up, but a surprisingly strong hand stopped him. “Where you going?”

“Home.”

“No!” John said a bit more awake. The he pulled him down onto the bed and into his arms. “I want you to stay.”

Sherlock couldn’t ignore the tingle that shot through his body at John’s words. He was too cute when he was sleepy. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist the offer, but he needed to state something.

“But you don’t do that on a normal first date.”

John laughed, “Sherlock, this wasn’t a normal first date.”

He felt Sherlock stiffen in his arms and kissed his cheek before he went on. “But that’s okay because things with you are always different and I _like_ it. I told you I don’t want you to change and I mean it. Thanks for trying for me, tho…” He captured Sherlock’s lips in a sweet kiss. “And now get rid of your clothes and come here!”

Sherlock mechanically got up from the bed and slowly took his clothes off. It was a relief to hear what John had said, but after all these years of being hated for being different, years of being called a freak they were somewhat hard to believe. But then he thought about how everything had changed when he had met John, and he realized that John really meant it. Because John was different as well. He quickly sent a text to Mycroft.

_Staying at John’s tonight. –SH_

Then he settled down on the bed again.

“I’m glad you’re stayin,” John said and Sherlock could feel the warm breath on his skin.

“Me too,” he replied and snuggled closer, enjoying the warmth of the other body. He really was because it had been a perfect day. He had spent much time with John and now he would fall asleep just as he had woken up: in John’s arms.


	12. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst things happen to the best people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God it has been ages. I am deeply sorry, but I wasn't sure how to continue and decided to take my time to figure it out so here you go. I hope you like it even if it is quite sad...  
> x  
> ThePoet

When John awoke the next morning Sherlock was gone. At first he thought he went to the bathroom. Then he noticed his clothes were gone, too. John stood up, still sleepy and confused. Had Sherlock left? Was he really gone? Why? What had gone wrong? Sighing heavily he wandered to the entrance hall to see that Sherlock's shoes weren't there anymore. John tried to stay calm. It had happened before that Sherlock had left without him, forgot about him and all that. But back then they didn't fell asleep together. They were in a relationship now. John thought those things should change something. He could at least have left a note.

He shuffled into the kitchen where his mother drank her morning tea. He slumped down on the chair opposite of her. "Morning," he said miserably

"Good morning,dear," his mother greeted him. "Where's Sherlock?" she asked puzzled when she saw the look on her little boys face, "Your dad told me he stayed the night."

"He left."

"Did you have a row?"

"No! Everything was fine...at least I think so. He agreed to stay yesterday, but when I woke up he wasn't there anymore."

"Oh, don't worry John. It will be fine. Maybe someone called him or so..." she suggested.

"I think I'll go to my room...thanks tho."

"Fine. My shift starts in thirty minutes. I'll knock before I leave."

 

John closed the door behind him before he threw himself on the bed again. It smelled like Sherlock.

He tried to decide what to do now. He could text him, ask why he woke up alone, but he was so angry...and hurt. Why did he have to be the one to send a text? If Sherlock wanted to be alone and did not even bother to tell him why...fine!

Half an hour later he still hadn't heard from him and he couldn't stand it any longer. He hadn’t even opened the door when his mother had said goodbye. He hated this. Cursing himself for being inconsistent, for always giving in he grabbed his phone.

_WHY DID YOU LEAVE? -JW 9:37_

_YOU COULD AT LEAST HAVE LEFT A NOTE. -JW 9:56_

_ARE YOU ALRIGHT? -JW 10:21_

_FINE. -JW 10:43_

_SHERLOCK? -JW10:55_

Still no sign from his boyfriend. At this point John was so worried he couldn't even sit still. It had happened that Sherlock had been too busy with experiments to answer his texts, but every time John had asked if he was alright there had been a replysaying that he was fine. But today- nothing.

Something was the matter and John had no idea what to do. He tried to ignore the nagging fear that seemed to tighten his lungs but he couldn't. After calling Sherlock several times -unsuccessfully- he snapped. He dressed himself quickly, grabbing random pieces of clothing that still lay on the floor from the 'what to wear crisis' the previous day, pocketed his phone, purse and keys, jumped into some shoes and made his way to the tube without stategy, without a plan and without an idea of what awaited him at the Holmes manor.

 

And then, suddenly, he stood there. At the front door. And he couldn't bring himself to ring the doorbell. Maybe Sherlock didn't want him anymore. Maybe he was injured. Maybe something horrible had happened. With all those horror scenarios in his head John rang the doorbell. He wasn't a coward after all.And he wanted to know whta was going on. He expected the butler to open the door as usual, but the door opened slowly and John faced a miserable looking Sherlock. He looked paler than yesterday. John was about to ask what had happened when he was pulled into a crushing hug.

"I'm sorry I left," Sherlock said.

John got more and more scared. The desperate hug, the apology. This was so untypical.

"What happened? Are you okay? Why didn't you answer your phone?" he couldn't hold back his questions any longer.

“I…got a text from Mycroft. It said ‘Sherlock, could you please come home?’ We don’t talk to each other like this…I knew something had happened. I left to find out what it was.” Sherlock let go of John, took him by his hand and led him up the stairs while he continued talking.

“My parents came back this morning and my father caught Mycroft and his boyfriend in bed.”

“Shit,” John exclaimed.

“He kicked the boy out. Apparently Mycroft tried to stop him. He told our father he loved the boy and that he had to accept that his son was gay and then,” Sherlock drew in a breath, “my father…hit him.”

“What??” John had forgotten to be angry at Sherlock. He had forgotten to tell him he should leave a note next time. None of it was important any longer. He knew how much Mycroft and Sherlock meant to each other, how strong their connection was even if they tried everything to hide it.

“Is he…okay?” John tried.

“No, John. He’s not.”

They stopped at the end of the corridor in front of what John knew was Mycroft’s room. Sherlock knocked before he spoke up. “Mycroft? John is with me…can we come in?”

From inside came a small, tired “yes” that really scared John. Mycroft was always strong- never had he shown a single weakness- but the voice on the other side of the door sounded broken.

When they entered the room John remembered he had been in there once before, years ago when Sherlock had picked the lock to annoy his big brother. They had been kids. They had been just friends and everything had been easy.

On the large bed on the left side of the room lay Mycroft, covered with a duvet. John could see his black eye, the split lip and the bruises on his arms.

“Fuck,” he whispered when he saw how injured Sherlock’s brother was.

“Fuck indeed,” Mycroft replied weakly. The words sounded so unnatural coming from his mouth. For some reason it made John incredibly angry.

“Is he still here?” he asked Sherlock.

“Who?” Sherlock asked surprised looking absently at his brother.

“The bloody bastard that did this to Mycroft,” he said gesturing wildly.

“He went to France immediately after this,” Mycroft pointed at his bruised skin.

“That’s so fucking wrong! What kind of father would hate his own son for being gay?”

“Ours,” Sherlock said so quietly it was barely audible.

“Sherlock could you get us some tea?” Mycroft asked his younger brother.

“Of course,” Sherlock replied and left to do as he was asked.


	13. Damage Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tries to help... as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god I needed so long to update this, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy the new chapter...let me know :)  
> x

For a second John felt awkward but he felt sorry for Mycroft and he really wanted to help. “Who is he?” he asked.

“Pardon?” Mycroft replied.

“The boy you are in love with. Who is he?”

Mycroft seemed taken aback. Then he smiled the most honest smile John had ever seen on his face. “His name is Gregory, Gregory Lestrade.”

“How did you meet?”

“We both attend a lecture on psychology. He studies criminology.”

“Did he ask you out?”

“Do I look like I’m not capable of doing so myself?”

Both of them laughed. “No offense, mate” John said warmly.

When Sherlock was about to enter the room he heard the soft laughter. John was incredible.     

 

He stepped in and placed the tea tray on Mycroft’s nightstand.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” his brother said. “Could you two leave me alone for some time? I do not mean to be rude but I think I would like to be alone now.”

“Sure, no problem,” John said and stood up.

“If you need anything, text me,” Sherlock said before he grabbed two of the three tea mugs and headed out after John. They went to his room and sat in silence.

 

John felt strangely uncomfortable. He wanted to comfort Sherlock so badly but he really didn’t know what to say. _I had no idea your father was so cruel_ It sounded dull in his head. _Talk to me, Sherlock_ he wanted to say but at the same time he didn’t want to force him. So he shuffled closer to him on the edge of the bed and simply lay his hand on his back. It was cold. Sherlock flinched but then leaned into the touch seeking the warmth. John leaned forward and hugged his boyfriend despite the awkward angle and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“I…”Sherlock felt the need to say something, anything really. For the first time in years he thought he might cry.

“Hey,” John said looking him in the eyes, his arm still around the taller boy’s shoulder. “Take your time. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now.”

“It’s not fair,” Sherlock broke out and now it was John who flinched because he sounded so damn angry.

“It’s pathetic. What he did. What he does. I can’t believe he is my father. He’s an idiot. Mycroft tries so hard to live up to his expectations, he tries so hard to make him proud but it doesn’t matter, he will never be a ‘true Holmes’ because he is gay!? That’s bullshit.” Sherlock was almost yelling now but as his next words he grew very quiet.

“He hurt him, John. Physically. Mentally. In every way possible. He broke his heart.” Sherlock had gotten off the bed and was now pacing up and down his room. John just sat there and listened and tried to be helpful and understanding.

“I can’t believe he did this to him. It makes me sick. He hit him! He hurt him.”

“He hurt you, too,” John said, his voice only a whisper. Sherlock froze and his eyes met John’s with an intensity that was almost scary.

“This is not just about Mycroft,” John went on. “It’s also about you, about us.”

And then Sherlock slumped down next to him once more, lowered his head so that it was nearly touching his knees and opened his mouth, but no words escaped him. John pulled him into another half embrace and for the first time in his life he saw Sherlock crying. And it terrified him because he wanted to make it okay, wanted to whisper that all would be fine but it wasn’t. And it probably wouldn’t be.

“Are you afraid?” he asked as he drew circles on Sherlock’s back with one hand while the other stroked his arm.

Sherlock didn’t know how that had happened but his vision was blurred and instead of an answer he let out something between a laugh and a sob.

“I’m not afraid,” he sniffed and quickly wiped away his tears with his sleeve. God this was pitiful, he hated crying. He tried to calm down, so he concentrated on the constant movements of John’s warm hands.

“I’m not afraid of being hurt by him. Pain is temporal and I would survive. I’m…It’s just…I could never sit with you and my parents like we did with your dad. I could never introduce you as my boyfriend without…consequences. It’s just not fair. And I am sure Mycroft will be okay, he will move out and make it “British Government” anyway, but…he is injured, John. He is always…he as always protected me. I don’t know how to deal with seeing him so miserable and broken and sad,” his voice broke again and he could do nothing about it.

John took his head in his hands, wiped away the new tears with his thumbs and kissed him. To soothe. To distract. The kiss said _I’m here_ , _I understand_ , _I won’t let you deal with this alone_.

“Sherlock listen to me, okay? I wish it was different, but I cannot change it. I’m so sorry, Sherlock. But it doesn’t change you, or me. It doesn’t change how I feel about you or the fact that I want to be with you. It doesn’t change what we are.” John took Sherlock’s hands in his. “And about Mycroft…you said he always protected you, yes? This time he protected his boyfriend and he protected himself, his identity, who he really is by standing up against your father. That was very brave, don’t you think?”

Sherlock stayed quiet. He felt horrible but he didn’t feel so helpless anymore. Because of John, the one person Sherlock could talk to. The one person who would always reassure him, would care for him, would listen to him, would understand what others couldn’t and would never make fun about his tears.

 

“Do you want me to leave?” John whispered after a while. Maybe Sherlock needed to be alone like Mycroft.

“Just lie with me,” Sherlock said and John did.

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Love?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock asks Mycroft for advice. Mycroft is a good big brother. John is cute as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am updating again because I finished this chapter together with the last one but I fear I will need some time to write the next few. Hope you enjoy it. Please leave a message if you liked it... they never fail to make me smile!

John awoke surrounded by darkness. Next to him Sherlock was fast asleep. He stood up quietly and draped the blanket over the lanky body. On Sherlock’s desk he found pen and paper.

_Dear Sherlock,_

_I’m sorry that I had to leave. Please call me tomorrow before school, okay?_

_Please do._

_John._

He placed the note on the bed next to the sleeping boy; then he tiptoed out of the room. He was about to leave when he remembered. He checked his watch. 23:08. He turned around and strode to Mycroft’s room. Dim light shone through beneath his door. John knocked and entered. Mycroft looked at him with wide, surprised eyes.

“John! You’re still here!?”

“Yeah…we fell asleep. I was about to leave, but I wanted to say goodbye and…check on you.” It sounded weird as he said it and he wasn’t surprised Mycroft gave him a strange look.

“If you need medical help -I presume you didn’t see a doctor- I can always ask my mum, she is a nurse you know?”

“Thank you, John.” Mycroft said and John wondered why he had never seen Mycroft as a normal human being before. “Bless you. I am so unspeakably glad Sherlock found you…or you found Sherlock, I do not know. You’re good for him.”

John had no idea how to respond. He wasn’t used to the elder Holmes brother being that friendly, but he liked it. He had always liked Mycroft for some reason, even if he could be an annoying twat. In the end he was just worried about Sherlock.

“Give me a call if you need something or if I can help or…anything,” John said and left before Mycroft could reply.

 

When he opened the door of the Watson-flat, when he entered the living room and saw his father sitting on the sofa and when he saw the expression the familiar face wore, he knew he was in big trouble. “Dad?!?”

“John,” his father sighed. Then it began. “Are you out of your mind? Where have you been all day? Why didn’t you answer the phone? It’s midnight and you have school tomorrow. I can’t believe we even have to have this conversation!”

“I have an explanation, dad. But…I’m not sure if I should tell you…”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t concern me…well not directly at least and because I know you would react very…strongly if I told you.”

Mr Watson’s face softened a bit. His son rarely broke the rules and if he said he had a good reason he believed him. John hated lies.

“John, you look worried. What troubles you? You’re not a traitor if you tell me. I want you to know that you can talk to me about everything you want. I promise I won’t freak out.”

 

“It’s…nothing. I’m sorry dad but I can’t tell you. At least not now okay?”

His father looked at him intently. Then he simply nodded. “If you want to talk about it you know where you find me,” he said thoughtfully. It was very untypical for John to keep things that bothered him to himself. “Sleep well.”

“Night, dad,” John said gratefully and went to his room.

 

John felt useless and strange. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep so he started tidying up the mess he had made in his room before the first date with Sherlock. He had been so happy. Sherlock had been happy. John stood there, the waistcoat he wore in his hands and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t let anything destroy what they had, that he would do everything to make and keep Sherlock happy.

 

When Sherlock awoke the next morning the first thing he noticed was his incredible headache. Then he remembered the previous night. He had cried. He had cried in front of John. For the first time someone who wasn’t Mycroft had seen him cry. John had hugged him, held him, soothed him. He had kissed him. Despite the crying. Despite the fact that he had shown weakness and emotions. Sherlock lay there and in the lobe darkness realization hit him like a train. He loved John. The thought didn’t frighten him…it absolutely terrified him. He shot up from his bed and started pacing again just like he had done last night.

_Love- dopamine, testosterone, estrogen, norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin, and vasopressin._

_Love [lʌv]-noun: A strong feeling of affection and sexual attraction to someone; Great interest and pleasure in something; A person or thing that one loves_

Love, Sherlock thought. I am in love with John.

Finally he couldn’t stand it any longer. He went to Mycroft’s room without knocking. His brother was still asleep. Sherlock looked at his watch. 4:37 am. _Still early then_. He had to wake him anyway. He hated to admit it but he had to because he needed Mycroft’s opinion, maybe even his advice. He stood next to the bed feeling awkward and strangely misplaced. He sat down on the chair that still stood there from the day before. He had sat there -in silence- with the only person who had ever understood him because they were alike.

“Mycroft?” he said quietly. Mycroft stirred immediately and slowly opened his eyes.

“Sherlock?” he asked his voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to ask you something, I …I need to know,” he said, hating how helpless he sounded.

“Well then,” Mycroft replied and sat up, his back leaning against the headboard. “Fire away.”

“Do you love this guy?” Sherlock asked trying to sound as uninterested as possible. Mycroft looked at him in awe. He hadn’t expected this.

“Gregory?”

“Yes, him.”

“Yes.” Mycroft said.

Now it was Sherlock who gaped.

“Why do you…”Mycroft started. Then he understood. “Ah,” he said. “I see.”

“Yes,” Sherlock replied awkwardly.

They sat in silence for a little while.

“You’re afraid,” Mycroft said. It wasn’t a question. “That’s normal and understandable, Sherlock. Love is terrifying.”

“Are you afraid?” Sherlock asked. Mycroft was never afraid.

“Very much.”

Sherlock buried his head in his hands.

“It’s the price you pay for all the good things that come with it,” Mycroft said softly. “Don’t panic.”

“How am I suppose not to panic? I am not good at this Mycroft. I will mess up. I will hurt John and he will leave me and move on and then I’ll be alone again because no one can stand me and I can’t stand anyone either,” Sherlock said hotly pulling at his hair.

“It is a risk to open up to someone, but…” Mycroft started but Sherlock interrupted him.

“I opened up to John when we became friends. That was risky but it worked. Why do I have to destroy everything now because I love him?”

Mycroft looked at his brother before he reached out to pat his shoulder, but decided against it and let his hand fall to his side again. He understood that Sherlock was scared.

“You have loved him since the first time he came to visit you here,” he said softly. “I remember it so well.”

Sherlock’s head shot up and he turned around to face his brother.

“I showed him my experiments,” Sherlock said recalling the day by extracting it from the John wing in his mind palace. “He said they were brilliant. It was a sunny day. We went outside to collect water samples from the different ponds in the area.”

“You came home with leaves in your messy hair, dirty clothes and I saw you smiling like you meant it for the first time in many years…maybe since you’ve been a pirate and I your first mate.”

Sherlock sat there and remembered wearing the pirate head he had loved so much, standing on the same bed in which Mycroft sat right now, fighting sea monsters with his brother and their wooden swords.

“How are you?” Sherlock asked without realizing he had wanted to.

“Don’t worry about me, Sherlock. I will be fine.”

“You will move out.”

“Yes.”

“What about me?” Sherlock asked and now it was Mycroft who saw the little pirate and his wild dark curls.

“I will visit you. You can also visit me of course. I won’t be moving far away.”

“Okay,” Sherlock said and felt full of emotion and empty at the same time.

 

He eventually returned to his own room. Mycroft was right. He had always loved John. When he turned on the light he noticed the small piece of paper John had left on the bed. Without a second thought he took his phone and called him.

“Sherlock?” John slurred as he picked up. _I woke him. He hasn’t slept more than four hours._

“Yes, it’s me. Sorry that I woke you up. I hadn’t noticed it was still so early.”

“You okay?” John asked sleepily.

“Yes,” Sherlock said with a smile. He loved it when John was only half awake. It was cute, like a cuddly-child version of him. “I would be better if you were here though…”

“Aww that’s nice. But you’ll see me in school.”

“Obviously. By the way how am I supposed to behave in school now that we are…together?” Sherlock asked to his own surprise.

John thought for a second. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know himself. “Uh…no idea to be honest. Whatever feels natural, I guess.”

“None of all these emotions feel natural to me, John! It’s all new and confusing.” John stayed silent. “I just don’t want to do something inappropriate. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

John understood. “Thank you. Let’s just behave normal. Like we did before…”

“Can I kiss you in public?”

John hesitated again. He was slightly nervous and a bit unsure because he didn’t know how his mates would react to his sexuality. They thought he was straight like John had always thought himself. But they were his friends so they wanted him to be happy, right? Most people thought he and Sherlock were a couple anyway.

“Yes;” he finally said.

“Good.”

Sherlock was more than happy about this answer. He needed to kiss John very badly. He wanted to know if it felt different now that he…knew. He had no intention to wait with it just because they had school. _Boring_. Also he wanted everyone to know that John was his.

He felt a bit giddy when he left the house. It was the first time in ages he looked forward to arrive at school. The first lesson was English literature and John was in it. He waited outside the building. He needed proof that he hadn’t imagined the weekend, hadn’t dreamed it, that everything had actually happened. About five minutes later John approached him.

“Hi,” he said happily.

“Hello,” Sherlock breathed before he leaned down and pressed his lips to John’s. _Real. This is real. Reality. Yes. Yes. Good. More!_

Without a second thought he dragged John around the corner so that they were hidden by the building. He saw John’s slightly confused expression, but the smaller boy didn’t say anything. Sherlock wondered if he would ever be able to resist John. He pressed him up against the stone wall and slipped his tongue inside his hot, inviting mouth. John gasped and his hands flew to Sherlock’s hips. Then he gently pushed him back. Sherlock kissed him anyway.

“Sherlock,” John laughed between kisses, “School!”

“Boring,” Sherlock smiled and kissed him one last time. He sighed. “Fine, let’s go.”


	15. New Territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds his courage, Sherlock is more confused then ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long. You guys deserve better, you're amazing! Every single response makes me very happy :)

The first half of the day passed in a blur of lessons and knee touching under the table. In the lunch break Sherlock had to go and see the headmaster –again- because he had insulted their chemistry teacher –again-. John sat in front of the office munching on a sandwich while he waited for his boyfriend. He knew Sherlock wasn’t in big trouble because for some mysterious, unexplainable reasons the headmaster liked him despite the fact that he caused trouble on a daily basis. So John just sat there and stared at the door until his rugby mate Bill walked in.

“Oi, Johnny boy. What have you done to sit here?” he cried and grinned.

“Nothing,” John chuckled, “I’m waiting for Sherlock. But what about you?”

“Ah I see. Weeell…I might have smashed a window.”

John looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

“It was an accident,” Bill said and flopped down on the chair next to John’s.

Both boys laughed. Then John decided to tell him because Bill was a good lad and because he had to start somewhere, wanted to start somewhere. Also he was in the rugby team and if he accepted it John wouldn’t be as afraid to tell the others.

“So…how are you doing?” he asked Bill.

“Good. Except that I will have to pay for a new window and my mum will murder me,” he replied grinning. “You?”

“Things are very good. I…” John drew in a deep breath. How do you tell your friends something like this? “I…” I have a boyfriend now? I discovered that I’m not as straight as I thought? “I mean…”

Bill frowned, “What’s up, mate? You’re blushing. Everything okay?”

“Yeah…look…I am in a relationship.”

Bill’s grin widened and he clapped John on the back. “Good for you.”

“With Sherlock,” John added not looking at his friend.

There was a sickening silence for a few moments. Bill’s hand lingered on his shoulder a little longer.

“Oh…” Bill said and took his hand away.

Silence stretched out again like a thoroughly chewed bubble-gum.

“Well, took you long enough, mate,” Bill said eventually and laughed.

John had literally never felt so relieved in his entire life, not that he could remember.

“Thanks Billy,” he said quietly still looking at his shoes. He knew the other boy knew what he meant.

“You’re still John Watson,” Bill said and John felt the stupid urge to cry, “You’re still my mate. Nothing has changed, really. But I guess some of the guys might freak out a little…bastards…”

“Yeah, I reckoned…”

The door of the office burst open and a content looking Sherlock emerged.

“John?! Come along,” he said enthusiasticly, pulling him out of his chair and dragging him down the corridor.

“Bye Billy,” John called over his shoulder.

“See you, Johnny,” Bill replied and winked.

 

“You told him,” Sherlock said as they made their way through the crowd.

“Yes,” John answered.

“That was…good,” Sherlock said and suddenly John realized how afraid the other boy had obviously been. He had feared John was ashamed of his sexuality or worse, ashamed of him and he would want to keep it a secret. He took his hand to stop him from running.

“Sherlock,” he said softly and his boyfriend froze.

“I know this is new for you and I know you know it is also new for me. Please don’t panic. If you have the feeling you’re freaking out or are concerned about something just talk to me, okay?”

Sherlock gave him one of those piercing looks, but there was a hint of a smile as he nodded.

_John is holding my hand. John is holding my hand in public. John’s hand is soft. He has a new shower gel. He took very little notes today. John is holding my hand in the middle of the school. Sherlock’s head was spinning. He tried to calm himself but he couldn’t._

“Damn, I have history now. I will be late. See you after school?” John said and interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes. See you later,” Sherlock managed to say.

As John dropped his hand and hurried down the corridor he felt cold. He mentally slapped himself and went to his physics class. He had no idea why he had this nagging feeling inside him. He should be happy. John was his boyfriend, for god’s sake. His parents knew. Parents. That couldn’t be it, could it?  
John had even told a friend about them and he had shown physical affection in front of other people. The feeling still remained.  
He had to talk to John later. He had told him to. Sighing Sherlock tried to focus on the assignment the idiotic teacher had given them. Damn those stupid emotions.

When he walked out of the building two hours later he saw John talking to Sarah Sawyer. A weird feeling brooded deep inside him. He didn’t like it. He approached them, glaring at the girl because the whole situation made him uncomfortable. Soon John said good bye to her and they walked towards the street.

“Can we spend the afternoon together?” Sherlock asked sheepishly.

John’s hand brushed his as they kept walking, “That would be great. Let’s go to my place. You can help me with my homework.”

“Dull,” Sherlock muttered and John’s laugh made him smile.

Twenty minutes later they entered John’s flat.

“Hi mum,” John called as he toed off his shoes, “Sherlock is with me, I hope that’s all right.”

“Don’t be silly, of course it is,” she replied from the kitchen.” Are you two hungry? I made lasagne.”

“Oh my god, I love you mum,” John exclaimed and entered the kitchen that was filled with a delicious smell to peck his mum on the cheek.

“Hello Mrs Watson,” Sherlock said politely as he followed John to the table, “Thanks for having me.”

“Oh shush, dear. You’re always welcome here, you know that.”  
Sherlock’s cheeks reddened.

It made John happy to see how well Sherlock got along with his parents. He was a different kind of Sherlock when he talked to them. It was…nice. Really nice.  
They talked a bit as they ate – it tasted just as breathtakingly good as John had expected- and he was disgustingly happy.  
His mother had to leave for work eventually, so after doing the dishes he and Sherlock went to his room and sat down on the bed.

“You told me to talk to you when something bothered me,” Sherlock said and John felt his stomach drop at the seriousness that lay in his voice.

“So I did,” he replied and placed his hand on Sherlock’s knee, “What’s the matter?”

“I…I don’t know. It’s just…so much,” Sherlock said quietly, not meeting John’s eyes.

“How do you mean?” John asked and the knot in his stomach tightened.

“I feel so much. It all started with you and suddenly there are always feelings, I’m always feeling things and it’s so…intense. I don’t know how to handle it.”

John’s throat was dry, “So it is too much…does that mean you want to stop….this?” he asked and took the hand of Sherlock’s knee to gesture between them.

Sherlock’s head snapped up, his eyes wide, “No! Of course not. It’s too much, too much but not enough, don’t you get it?”  
John shook his head no.

“I cannot stop thinking about you. I miss you seconds after you left. I feel the constant need to touch you. I’m jealous- oh yes jealousy that’s what it was- when you talk to girls I know you had a crush on, I need…I need you, John. So much. So much it scares me.”


	16. I'm Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can have everything you want from me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God that one took me ages. You had wait way too long for that smut I'm deeply sorry. That's why I will stop talking at this point, you'll probably scroll to the story anyway ;) Enjoy. Responses are greatly appreciated!

The knot in John’s stomach was replaced with a tingling. He couldn’t believe how openly Sherlock talked about his feelings lately. This was new. This was good. Sherlock sat there staring at him, obviously expecting him to say anything but instead John tackled him so that he landed on top of his curly haired genius. He kissed him deeply, thoroughly, wanting him to know that he understood how he felt.  


“You can have everything you want from me,” he said into Sherlock’s mouth and he really meant it.  


Sherlock gasped. Sensory overload. _John is on top of me. The shower gel is new but the shampoo is not, good I like the old one, it smells like John. John is kissing me. Oh. Oh, the thing he just did with his tongue, yes. His lips are soft. He uses lip balm. Has he used lip balm before? His eyes look like deep mountains seas in the sunlight. God, I really love him. I need to tell him, but it’s too early. But I need to. This will drive me mad. Oh. He will say something soon. Better listen. ___  


Sherlock blinked. The words echoed in his mind. _Everything you want. Everything from me. Everything. __He felt the words affecting his body, blood rushing south. He flipped them over in one swift motion so that John was beneath him and started to kiss him furiously. _This is it. This is what I crave all the time. Contact. Heat. John. ____  


He felt him squirming beneath him as he started to cover his neck with kisses. _John is so warm. I can feel his heart beating. Elevated rate. Why is he moving is it uncomf- oh. Oh that’s so much better. Keep your knee there. This is what I wanted the whole day. How could I question this? I need to capture this moment.  
_

“John, I want to mark you. I want everyone to know that you are mine and then I want you to do the same with me. And then I will wake up tomorrow and there will be a bruise because you put it there for them to see. Will you do that?”

Every time when he and Sherlock were together like this John felt like he was caught in a hurricane. Sherlock was everywhere at the same time, finding all his sensitive spots, touching what felt like every inch of his body. It was utterly stunning how he focussed on him. It made John feel important and good. Really, really good. Sherlock’s words, so determined, so demanding and yet so sweet made him shudder with want.  


“Yes, god yes, Sherlock.”

_He wants me so much. He slowly loses control. I just need to- ooh. ___  
John had pulled on his hair to reach his mouth again and nipped on his upper lip. He slid his tongue over it and bit down.  
Sherlock jumped as the jolt of pleasure shot threw him and John immediately stopped.  


“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, I just…”  


Sherlock rolled his eyes, but his smile was full of affection. “John you really need to read the signs. Of course that didn’t hurt. It was…arousing.”  


This time John had the smug grin on his face. “Was it now?”  


“Shut up, John.”  


John’s grin widened as he rolled them over again. Sherlock let out a small yelp as he attached his mouth to Sherlock’s neck. He savoured the feeling of the silky skin against his lips, the slightly salty taste on his tongue and the noises his boyfriend made as he kissed him there. Then he dared to scrape his teeth at the soft flesh. He felt Sherlock arching up so he knew he was on the right track. Reassured he carefully bit down, licked over the same spot and sucked.  


_This is John wanting to make me feel good. He does this for me. He is always so worried that he hurt me, he cares so much. I need to show him that I care more often. He should know that but he doesn’t observe so maybe he doesn’t know. Jesus that felt amazing. __  
_

“John,” Sherlock moaned, “do that again. Please.”  


John was so hard right now it started to hurt. Listening to Sherlock’s panting and moaning really turned him on. He sat back and opened his belt.  


“What about we get rid of our trousers first, yes?”  


Sherlock nodded and so they quickly parted to do so. They decided to pull off their shirts, too and when they crawled under the duvet together they could feel the other even more. Lying on his side John started to suck another bruise right above Sherlock’s collarbone while Sherlock himself nibbled on John’s neck. Bodies pressed together they started to move against each other, slowly first and then more and more desperate. When Sherlock let out an obscene groan John stopped and kissed him again while his hand right hand wandered down Sherlock’s chest and lower. Shakily he pulled the taller boy’s boxers down a bit and freed his cock. He ran his fingertips over the underside before he took him in hand and started to stroke. Sherlock shuddered and buried his face in John’s neck.  
John could feel his ragged breaths there and he pulled down his own pants with the other hand and then their erection rubbed together and John drew in a sharp breath because he thought me might pass out.  


Sherlock lost himself in the sensation of being surrounded by John, feeling how he took care of him. His one hand was fisted in the sheet, the other clung to John’s back. He noticed how John stilled for a moment and turned his head to look down as he felt how John’s cock touched his. His eyes widened and suddenly it wasn’t enough to just lie there and let John take over control so he untangled his hand from the sheet and wrapped it around John’s smaller one which brought their erections together and increased the speed of the stroking.  


“S-Sherlock, that’s-“ John started but Sherlock swiped his thumb over the head of his cock and words turned into a moan.  


“I know,” Sherlock said his voice low and husky. And then he thrust his hips while he sped up with his hand to increase the friction and John shuddered as orgasm overtook him.  


_Closed eyes, open mouth. He said my name. He said my name when he climaxed. I did this to him. __  
_

Sherlock carefully let go of John’s penis and made an attempt to keep stroking himself but John slapped his hand away to do it himself with his come covered hand. He knew Sherlock was almost there and he knew exactly what to do. He captured his lips in a wet kiss, bit down on his lower lip and tugged on it while he twisted his hand slightly.  
And as he had suspected that was all it took to send Sherlock over the edge as well. He stroked him through it, holding him close and kissing him sloppily smiling at the expression on the geniuses face and even if he was aware of how much of a cliché this was, in this moment he knew he was in love with Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
